Relief
by Kuma
Summary: Scully and Mulder are on a case and when Scully turns out to be the victim.
1. Chapter One

Relief  
  
By Kuma  
  
E-mail Snowfox4@bellsouth.net  
  
Disclaimer I don't own Scully, Mulder, or Skinner. Fox and Chris Carter have the rights. (Although it would be cool to own them ) However, I do own Litson and any other characters that aren't related to the X-files. Litson is a place I made up in my own little mind. If there is any like resemblances to my made up town or people, it is purely a coincidence.  
  
Author's note I have just recently gotten into the X-files "phase". Sorry if the characters don't seem anything like themselves. I'm only basing it on the very few episodes I have seen and all the fanfiction I have read.   
  
Feedback This is my first attempt at X-files fanfiction, however, not my first attempt at fanfiction itself. (I have written many Buffy fanfics, which I enjoyed writing). This being the case, I would love feedback. If you want to flame me, that's fine too. I'm just asking that you do it in constructive criticism. ^_^  
  
  
  
  
  
I inhaled slowly. I could feel my lungs stretching to accommodate the mass intake of oxygen. Just as slowly, I exhaled through my mouth. I let my heavy eyelids fall, enclosing my vision in complete darkness. Yet, it seemed, sleep just didn't want to come to me tonight.  
  
Images raced through my brain. The case, the evidence, the autopsy, all fragments of my day, never settling on one scene. They were flipping through my mind like I would much do to the television to see what was on. Just barely getting a glimpse of each scene.  
  
I took another deep breath and tried to relax my body. I thought about how I'd rather be in the soft confines of my bed. However, like many times before, I was stuck in a motel bed. The hardness of the mattress, the thin cotton sheets, and comforter that felt like it had been starched could do nothing for my aching muscles and tired body. I decided that I would never take my own bed for granted anymore.  
  
I concentrated on my sense of feeling to occupy my mind. To think of something else besides the grueling case. I concentrated on how the rough cotton fell upon my toes, traveling up my bare legs. The unwelcome feel was overtaken by the soft fabric of my thick cotton shorts and large cotton shirt. My neck and head rested on the firm pillow. Both of my arms rested on my stomach, creating slight pressure there. I let out a sigh. It was an old technique I had learned in college to help me sleep when I was stressed.  
  
Finally, I could feel the familiar heaviness as exhaustion and sleep sank in. My body, as well as my mind, felt tired. A smile played across my lips as sleep started to take over.  
  
Instantly, I bolted awake at the sharp ring of the hotel phone. I considered not answering it, but I knew who it was. If I were to let it keep ringing or take it off the hook, eventually, that person would be right over, gun in hand, to make sure I was alright. I let out a grunt as I reached over and grabbed the phone.  
  
"Hello?" I answered coldly. I glanced at the illuminated clock radio. It was only eight thirteen.   
  
Mulder and I had flown out late the previous evening on what Skinner had said to be urgent. It wasn't an x-file, but another mass murderer. The Litson police need the help of a very good profiler and hopefully good pathologist. Skinner wasn't entirely happy about the x-files, but he knew that Agent Mulder was one of the best profilers that the FBI had. He knew that Agent Mulder and I made a good team and had a ninety-five percent solve rate.  
  
Despite how hard I tried, I couldn't sleep on planes. So, I entertained myself by reading over the police reports and looking at photographs while my partner slept soundly beside me. We arrived at the Salt Lake City, Utah, airport about four in the morning. From there, we had to drive an hour and a half south east to Litson. I didn't complain when Mulder insisted to drive. I tried to sleep in the car, I really did, but the road was just to bumpy to sleep. So, I had decided to just watch the scenery go by.  
  
When we had gotten to Litson, it was almost six. Mulder checked us both into the motel and gave me half an hour to get ready. Mulder had dropped me off at the small funeral home there. Litson was a small town and didn't have any sort of lab, so the body was being kept there for now. Chief Davis was already there and had an unexpected surprise waiting. They had found another body about three this morning just outside of Litson. I had two bodies to examine, but I ultimately decided to ship the bodies to the FBI forensic lab where I could do extensive testing and autopsies.  
  
"Did I wake you?" the masculine voice on the other end questioned me. Immediately, I felt guilty for being so cold earlier. It wasn't his fault I was tired.   
  
I let out a sigh. He always woke me up. Sometimes at all hours in the morning to discuss evidence and his half cracked theories. "What did you need, Mulder?"  
  
"I wanted to know if you wanted to get some dinner."   
  
I laid back down and stared up at the ceiling, letting her eyes adjust to the darkness of the room. "Don't you ever sleep?" I inquired, avoiding his offer.  
  
"Do you eat?" He countered.  
  
"Yes, Mulder. I do eat." I answered simply.  
  
"You haven't ate anything since lunch before we left D.C." Mulder accused. He was right.  
  
"Mulder, my eating habits are non of your concern." I knew it sounded ungrateful, but I was tired. In situations like this, sleep usually won over before hunger.  
  
"Come on, Scully." His voice pleaded into my ear. "I'm paying."  
  
I didn't answer. He was paying? He must be desperate. I remember him once telling me that he hated to eat alone. He had eaten alone after Samantha disappeared and his mom pulled away. He told me that he had often went over to the Gunmen's place to "offer his services" but it was really just to be in the company of others.  
  
I decided that I would rather eat with him than have him eat alone. "You wouldn't be paying for it," I said smiling. "You'll just add it on to our expense report." I knew full well he had done it in the past.  
  
His answer came whispered and unexpected. "I won't tell if you won't."  
  
Was he serious? No, that can't be. He was just flirting lightly with me, like he used to. Like he did when we first worked together. Recently, I noticed that the flirtation had grown close non-existent. To be honest, I miss it. It reminded me that under the tough exterior that I had built, I was still a woman. However, I dismissed this comment just like the others.  
  
I got out of the bed. I wasn't entirely mad that I got out of the bed, either. It wasn't all the comfortable. "I'll be ready in five." I told him and hanging up the phone. I flipped on the lamp and walked over to the small wooden dresser and opened my duffel bag that sat on top. I hadn't really brought anything to go out in. I had brought just two suits that were laid over the chair, a few pairs of jeans to wear under my scrubs, and a few simple blouses.  
  
I figured we wouldn't be here that long anyway. At least I wouldn't. After a through examination of the crime scenes with Mulder tomorrow, I'd be heading back to Washington to do the autopsies.  
  
I pulled out a dark pair of stretch blue jeans and a light blue button up blouse. I slipped out of my pajamas, folding each piece as I took it off. I grabbed a bra out of my bag and put it on. I put my blouse on first, then I slide the jeans over my legs and up my hips, taking care to tuck in my blouse. I buttoned up my blouse, leaving the top two undone, low enough to show my cross, but not low enough to show anything I didn't want anyone to see.  
  
I pick my brush from my bag and walked to the small white bathroom. I flicked on the light and looked at myself in the mirror. I wasn't wearing any makeup. I had taken that off whenever Mulder had dropped me off after I finished the examinations at six-thirty. I didn't feel like putting any on, so I just ran the brush through my hair, straightening it from the mess it had been.  
  
I walked back to my bag, shoving my brush inside to exchange them for socks and sneakers. I slipped the soft cushions over my feet, followed by my white sneakers. I put the holster that was on the dresser on and walked over to the night table where my gun sat. I put it in the holster and grabbed my jacket. I shrugged it over my shoulders just as I heard a knock at my door.  
  



	2. Chapter Two

Relief  
  
By Kuma  
  
E-mail Snowfox4@bellsouth.net  
  
Disclaimer I don't own Scully, Mulder, or Skinner. Fox and Chris Carter have the rights. (Although it would be cool to own them ) However, I do own Litson and any other characters that aren't related to the X-files. Litson is a place I made up in my own little mind. If there is any like resemblances to my made up town or people, it is purely a coincidence.  
  
Author's note I have just recently gotten into the X-files "phase". Sorry if the characters don't seem anything like themselves. I'm only basing it on the very few episodes I have seen and all the fanfiction I have read.   
  
Also, sorry if this is taking a bit long, but I'm trying to write an at least reasonable good story between going to school and work. Sorry!  
  
Feedback Yes, please! )  
  
  
  
  
  
I glanced at clock. Five minutes on the dot. I didn't take me a second guess to wonder who it was. "Yes?" I called out, just be sure. Despite that I knew it was Mulder, I still had to be sure. It always saved the both of us in the end to be sure.  
  
A muffled, "It's me," floated through the door. I quickly recognized that it belonged to Mulder. I grabbed my black purse and opened the door.   
  
I was greeted by the form that could only belong to my partner. Of all the times that I have seen him casually dressed, and it's not that often, I wonder how many times he has worn this outfit. Fit black jeans, black undershirt, and a black leather jacket. I liked his outfit. It made him look handsome, sexy. I stopped surprising myself a long time ago when I finally admitted to myself that I cared for him for more than just a friend.   
  
Still, I always dismissed his flirtations and sexual banters, not only because of Bureau policies, but because I enjoyed having him hit on me again. I know it sounds a little shallow, even for me, but I needed it to remind me that despite whatever barriers I have put up to be tough, inside I'm still a woman. Although, I often wondered what would happen if I did. What he would say, what he would do.  
  
So, when Mulder casually said, "Ready to go, hot stuff?", I slapped him lightly on the arm and locked the door behind me. I was aware that Mulder had just taken a shower. He smelled like soap, after shave, and his cologne. God, he smelled so good. I smiled as I breathed it in.  
  
Mulder opened the passenger door for me, the perfect gentleman as always. I slid in and buckled my seat belt, relaxing in the softness of the seat. It was better than the motel bed, that's for sure. Maybe when we arrived back tonight, I'll ask Mulder for the keys and just sleep in the car.  
  
I glanced at Mulder as he got in and snapped his seat belt close. I watched his strong hands grip the key, slide it into the ignition, and watched as his hand gave a little twist. I seemed to be doing that more lately. Watching him. Watching the way he moves, the way his muscles move.  
  
Mulder looked at me as the car roared to life. "I saw this little restaurant a few miles out of Litson. It's not fast food and it's not a diner." He turned his gaze back to the road and started driving.  
  
I smiled. Food for once. Real food. I was getting tired of the diner and fast food we always ate. "Sure," I replied with a smile. "That sounds great."  
  
* * *  
  
We didn't talk much on the way to the restaurant. Just about the case and if I found any physical evidence that could match both victims for a common killer. I hadn't and Mulder proposed a half-cracked theory, it surprised me really for him to have one so early, but I knew he was just teasing by his tone of voice and smiling when I countered his theory.  
  
When we reached the restaurant, it was about a quarter full. "You know, Mulder," I said as we walked in the door. "I'm starting to believe this is the only good place to eat around here."  
  
I saw Mulder crack a smile. We came upon the hostess and Mulder politely answered her questions before we could get a table. When the hostess lead us to our table, Mulder placed his hand on the small of my back, like always. I can't describe what it does to me. It can means so many different things. Times like this, he's being a gentleman, and he makes me feel respected, like he cares for me. He also does it when I'm sad or upset. There, it feels comforting. He feels safe when nothing else does.  
  
A young, brunette waitress approached us. "Hi, I'm Karen and I'll be your waitress this evening. Can I order your drinks?" She said with a little too much pep. I spied her staring at Mulder and smiling a little too much for my liking. I admit I do get a little jealous sometimes. It was juvenile and stupid because he was only my partner and I had nothing to do with his personal life, no matter how many times he evaded mine. Yet, no matter how many times I told myself this, I was still jealous.  
  
Mulder smiled at the young waitress. I saw his eyes dip lower from her eyes to her well endowed aspects that she seemed to love to flaunt. She wasn't doing anything but enjoying it. Right now, I'd like to smack that shit eating grin off of his face. "Yes," he spoke in a low voice. Any other time, the way he said that would of been down right sexy. But now wasn't any other time. "I'd like to have an ice tea, two waters, and a bottle of Pinot Noir."  
  
I watched Mulder stare at the waitress as she left with a "I'll be right back." Like I said, too much pep. Mulder's gaze turned back towards me. "Wine?" He never ordered wine.  
  
"I told you I was buying," he said with a smile. "And since I'm buying, I'm ordering some wine."  
  
He was serious about buying. It made me feel like it was a date, but it wasn't a date considering the way he looked at that waitress. I looked back down at my menu and closed it. "I think I'll just have the rice and teriyaki chicken stir-fry with a side salad."  
  
"Good, I can finally get you to eat something." He said, sounding too pleased. I did eat, but apparently not enough for him. I knew what he was talking about. I hardly ever ate anything but salads whenever we were on cases, trying to avoid the fattening and greasy foods.  
  
The waitress came back with our drinks on a tray. "Here are your drinks and your wine will be served with your food," she said as she handed Mulder the drinks one by one. She didn't even turn towards me, only addressing my ogling partner. "Are you ready to order?" she asked sweetly. A smile like the grand canyon was stamped on her face.  
  
Mulder gave a slight nod and gave her his menu. "I'd like the twelve ounce steak, well done, please. And also the side pasta salad."  
  
"Anything else for you?" She asked, giving him a wink.  
  
He didn't even bother ordering for me, that jerk. I took a deep breath to try calming my rising temper. I knew if I didn't control it soon, I'd blow it. I knew jealousy didn't become me. The waitress turned towards me, less enthusiastic about taking my order. I gave her my menu. "I'd like the rice and chicken stir-fry with a side salad, please." I was thankful that I managed to say it calmly.  
  
I looked out the window. It was dark and I couldn't see anything much except the road lit by the street lights. I reminded myself that it was immature to feel this way. It didn't feel right. I didn't have the right to feel this way. I was annoyed at Mulder, pissed is more like it.   
  
He had always held respect for me. Always being polite. I didn't know why tonight felt a bit different. I didn't know if it was because he was paying or because of the way he flirted with me earlier. But I sure as hell know that Karen, the waitress had a hell of a lot to do with me being annoyed.  
  
I felt like someone was watching me. I stared outside the window a little harder. I couldn't be certain, but there, across the street, there was a sill outed figure.  
  
"What is it?" Mulder asked with concern. He peered out the window with me. I looked at him and then looked back. Nothing. Just a bush.  
  
I shook my head. "Nothing. I just thought I saw something." I sighed. I crossed my hands over my lap.  
  
Mulder took a sip of his iced tea. "Is something bothering you tonight?" He could be so oblivious sometimes.  
  
I shook my head again. "No," I replied with a sigh.  
  
Mulder leaned back in his chair, relaxing. "I can tell that something is," he said, staring into my eyes. I hated it when he did that. It always made me feel guilty for lying to him, even if it was for my own good. "But if you don't want to talk about it, that's fine."  
  
"Then why do you even ask if you know?" I questioned. I was getting more annoyed by the second.  
  
Mulder hunched forward, putting the palm of his hands on the table. "I was trying to get you to open up to me. You don't do it often on your own, you know." He accused. "The only time you do is when you or I am hurt."  
  
"Mulder-" I started to say, but he cut me off.  
  
"I know. No personal stuff." He shook his head. "I always think I'm the one that knows you best, Scully. After all we've been through, after all we've suffered, you're still the only person I trust. But at times like these, I realize that I don't know a damn thing about you."  
  
I let out a sigh. It was true enough. I didn't know anything about him, either. Just about work Mulder and I guess that's how he saw me. He only trust me and I him. Mulder had trusted me from the beginning. Blind trust was how Scully, the scientist saw it. Blind trust was only needed when you needed someone to trust. Someone to rely on. But Dana, the woman, considered it as a gut-wretched feeling. Something that had pulled them together. She knew this because she had felt it too.  



End file.
